In Your Arms
by iced-wine
Summary: AU. Soubi, the rebellious heir to one of Japan's most prestigious art dealerships, doesn't know what about the mute and tattered Ritsuka had attracted him, only that with each passing day he's becoming more and more irresistibly attached.
1. Disclaimer, etc

**Warning:** Explicit yaoi/shonen-ai content. Explicit sexual references/descriptions. Explicit depiction of statutory rape.

**Disclaimer:** Loveless and all of its characters are completely the work and property of Yun Kouga.

**Credit:** This story is based on a manga called "E-Ai"(Chinese title) by Chi-Ran. The basic blueprint of the plot was inspired by this manga.


	2. Prologue

The faint rustle of the sheets roused Soubi from his ephemeral stupor. He turned and fastened his empty gaze nonchalantly on the petite form fast asleep beside him. Exhaustion colored his companion's countenance, a last trace of perspiration sliding even as Soubi looked at him. A pool of black hair gleamed of their recent exertion, a shiny shade of raven forming a stark contrast with the white linen of the pillow. Soubi rested on his elbow and leaned over the boy, looking with a neutral inquisitiveness at the closed eyes and supple lips of one that had so unnaturally attracted his attention. There was beauty, that was without question, even if it was paled by an excess exposure to the elements; perhaps the torment of the tempests had only added to the haunting beauty of the child's pale face: a most fragile and innocent loveliness.

A strand of silver hair slid from Soubi's naked shoulders and brushed with its tip the boy's exposed arm. The child stirred and opened his eyes, a most passionate lavender, and looked with a customary fearfulness at the man who now met his gaze. He was afraid that he had unknowingly offended his curator, afraid that he might again be unambiguously abandoned.

"Again." Soubi commanded in that perpetually soft voice that betrayed neither gentleness nor malignity.

Slender and long fingers ghosted the small of his back, gentle, but unrelenting nevertheless. The boy arched his back in response and encircled his small arms around the Soubi's neck, over the finely shaped contours of muscles and the long silver hair. The faint perfume of Soubi's body once again invaded the boy's senses, and the innumerable kisses that the former bestowed on his supple flesh was like a misguiding prelude to a most violent symphony.

Passionately Soubi embraced the small form in his arms. Rocking and driving him, feeling the thunderous pounding of the child's heart against his chest, feeling the desperate clutch of the child's fingers in his hair as he entered and invaded him. The angelic skin beneath him was burning with unmistakable fervor; the guileless eyes moistened with confusion as they gazed at Soubi. The unwavering neutrality of Soubi's eyes silenced the boy's unvoiced question easily. Within a moment a deep blush exploded on the boy's childish cheeks, and those innocent eyes closed tightly as pearly gushes of white poured onto the sheets. A silent groan of climatic satiety escaped the boy's parted lips.

Soubi pulled out, holding the boy in his arms and feeling the laborious heave of the latter's chest against his torso. He twirled the boy's hair, matted with sweat, absently with his fingers, his unobserving eyes roaming aimlessly over the blank white walls, then returned to the boy again as he prepared to rise.

"A pity, that you have no voice. Otherwise I could draw forth your most exquisite song." He threw out carelessly as he disappeared into the bathroom.

The boy's gaze followed Soubi until the glass doors of the shower obscured his view. A finger touched his lips automatically.

Voice…that mystifying and unimaginable thing that only he seemed to lack.

He touched his throat, trying to force out even the slightest whimper. Voice. How can he make it come out. It was like a child, hiding in the deep and dark caves of his throat, refusing to emerge.

"…" Nothing. Not even the faintest whisper.

"I did say that this house is yours to do whatever you like, did I not?" Don't know when, Soubi had stepped out from the bathroom, his wet silver hair pulled up by a clip. "Why do you stay in that corner?"

The things Soubi did are strange, even painful, and he didn't really understand what they were. But Soubi had taken him in. Soubi had fed him and given him shelter. That was enough.

"Do you like corners?" Soubi asked.

He didn't want to be abandoned again, didn't want to be left with no one to claim him, so he'll be a good boy. If he's good perhaps his new guardian won't throw him away again so easily.

The boy stared at Soubi. _I just don't want to get in the way._


	3. Perplexed: Soubi

Ambling aimlessly on the street, I didn't know when the snow had started falling. Perhaps it had always been there, maybe it was me all along who hadn't noticed. How long had it been? How long must pass before it could end? Before I could end this meaningless existence of drifting in and between shadows, as though I didn't really exist at all.

I don't know why I noticed that child, drenched by the icy dew until his skin was a layer of solid crust. I don't know why I had taken him. I don't need him. I don't need anyone.

"I heard you got a new pet. Everyone has been dying to know." Kio looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to reveal some enigmatic detail to which he thought his friendly relation with me entitled him.

I snapped out of my reverie and returned my gaze to Kio, my expression as cold and uncaring as the thin strands of smoke swirling in the tall glass of chilled wine in my hand.

I sat with one leg slung carelessly over the other, leaning with casual ease on the maroon chaise, my snow white attire a stark contrast with the passionate red. Kio was waiting for my answer, but I wished to give none. Twirling the wineglass in my hand, I roused the motionless liquid and brought it to my lips, a smile hanging loosely on my face all the while.

"Ah, yes. A new pet." I breathed before emptying the glass.

It started as only a mild curiosity, a pursuit for some new sensation. Boredom had driven me to stop by the tattered cardboard box on the side of the snow-covered street. It was an interest, an interest to take in a helpless thing and house him as though a stray dog.

I never thought he would be like this.

I came home a few days later, surprised, to find that he had finally resolved to emerge from the confines of his room and was sitting on the floor beside the shoe rack, waiting for me. A childish smile instantly brightened his lips when he saw me in the open doorway, and before I could comprehend the situation his arms had already encircled my waist, his head buried comfortably in my sweater. He always looked so small against me, with his head barely reaching my chest when he leaned against me, and I thought how easy it would be for me to crush him, and knowing this, how marvelous it was that he always trusted me.

I froze for a second, unsure of how to respond. His embrace was different, foreign, and the message it conveyed totally novel to me. When my lovers hug me, I know exactly what they want; sex, money, or a combination of the two, but now I don't know what he wanted from me, or why his expression was so content.

To be so gratified by my presence; to be so glad to just be near me, I don't understand this. I don't understand this at all. But it feels kind of nice; to be needed, to be anticipated.

"I'm home." I whispered, the words as foreign to me as to him.

I let him hold me until his arms loosened and released me.

We ate, or rather, I watched him eat. There was an inexplicable gracefulness about the things he did and the way he did them, like a masterpiece whose color changed constantly with the revolution of the sun. It was innocence, a simplicity untainted.

After a while he looked up, his watery eyes questioning.

_Aren't you hungry?_

I shook my head with a small smile and continued my observation.

It begun as only a curiosity, now I'm not so sure.


	4. Tears: Ritsuka

Why am I here

Why am I here? Why did he bring me here?

The man who took me, I didn't know his name. I didn't now anything about him.

He rarely spoke to me, and every time we were in bed it was painful to be with him, but he gave me home, gave me a place to belong to, and that was…more important than anything.

"…serious…won't let…him?" Fragments of a foreign male voice drifted through the stark white walls, a slight echo trailing behind like the mindless repetition of a child.

Most mornings I woke to an empty space beside me, with a pool of sunlight streaming through the translucent white of the curtains, too bright for my eyes. From that moment on ceaseless waiting became my only companion, until he would come back again at dusk. Today was different. The sight of sunlight falling in a slant across his cheek greeted my just awakened eyes, shielding me from the blinding radiance. I wished that moment could last forever.

"…living with you? Are you…are you in love?" My attention focused unwillingly on the conversation again. I can't leave his bedroom though, because he does not wish for his friends to see me.

I tiptoed carefully to the doorway and opened a slight crack, leaning against the wall with my hands locked behind. The loud roaring of my pulse became a deafening rush in my ear so that I could scarcely hear his reply.

"Love? Please don't delude yourself. He's just a toy, to be thrown away when I'm tired of him." I heard his ever soft voice drift through the blank white walls.

Tears clouded my eyes and everything became blurred, tears burning as they rolled down my cheeks.

I didn't know what I was expecting. I didn't know why I felt like a knife had been driven into me.

I lied down on my side on the comforter, drew my knees to my chest and hugged them tightly.

A misery to which I could never give a voice, a scream of anguish that no one will ever hear.

_Why can't you see that my heart is bleeding? _


	5. Repentance: Soubi

I said something that belied the truth. I don't know why said it, but it was so natural, so characteristic that I didn't even have to process it before it rolled off my tongue.

I opened the bedroom door softly and entered. He didn't hear me come in. For a moment I stood in the doorway and watched him, watched his small shoulders tremble and crystal tears streaming down his pale cheeks. Lying in the middle of my king-size bed, he was no more than a puddle, an island in the middle of a white sea.

Funny, he seemed so pure even in his suffering.

I approached slowly and sat down on the bed, only then did the bouncing of the mattress alert him to my presence. Surprised and fearful eyes met my own, their dark amethyst glazed over with a film of wet transparency. He broke eye contact quickly, casting those innocent orbs to the side, as though ashamed. I reached out and tilted his chin, forceful and unrelenting, so that his eyes have no choice but to meet mine. Two fresh columns of tears instantly spilled down his face and the violet orbs of his eyes trembled. The innocent anguish of his gaze bore into me, as if a dagger staking the reality of his suffering into me, with the blade twisting as it pierced my flesh to make its point.

"Don't look at me like that." I breathed as I drew him into my arms and embraced him, small and trembling, like the shuddering leaves of autumn tumbling in the wind. I ran my hands through his silky black hair, over the smoothness where there should be two small kitty ears. He leaned into my touch, sniffling and moaning, and welcomed my shower of soft kisses with that customary and perpetual passivity.

Just a toy, to be thrown away when I'm tired of him...

How can he be just a toy, when a single tearful glance could tear me to pieces? How can a mere toy shatter my façade with but a fleeting gaze?

"You are mine." I whispered hoarsely in his ear, my lips gracing the curve of his neck gently as I laid him down on the feathery mattress, tasting the salt and the scorching heat on his skin as my hands caressed his now familiar body. Watching his flushed expression and eyes squeezed tightly shut, feeling the desperate clutch of his fingers on my skin, I was torn between the desire to caress him like the most fragile crystal and the urge to completely tear him apart. We twisted in the bed, the sheets bearing the frustration of my conflicting wishes as I clutched and tore the soft silky fabric in my fingers.

His lips were parted as I bent down and suckled the burning skin on his naval, the sound of rapid breathing substituted to convey the degree of his arousal for the voice that could never be. The sight of his face swooned me, and with practiced motion I flipped him onto his stomach and begun.

A thundering heart to take the place of his nonexistent voice in the pinnacle of passion, that powerful rhythm pulsing against my chest as I held him, fragile yet resilient in my arms. The innocence of his face contorted by pain, and transcending it, pleasure. I marveled at that face, marveled at his childish simplicity, so much so that I wanted to tear that simplicity apart with my own hands.

* * *

"Let's go out today. You haven't been out since coming here." I said as he wandered sheepishly into the dining room, one hand still rubbing his eyes.

He looked back at me, the expression in his eyes protected by the veil of morning confusion. I set down the breakfast tray, without natto, the way he liked it, and took a seat across the table. It was then that I perceived the faint smile on his lips. That smile, it belied a truth that my pride would never allow me to admit…


	6. Contentment: Ritsuka

I think this winter is a strange one. It is now well into April, yet there's still a thin layer of snow dampening the plum blossoms, despite the pale pink flowers of the Japanese Cherry that's already blooming.

Dark clouds of an approaching rain permeated the sky as we strolled slowly down the street; shards of dangling ice from the night before melting and dripping reluctantly in the rain-infused gray. He held my hand as we walked, his fingers wrapped around mine gently. When a light breeze blew by wisps of his perfumed silver hair would whirl into a graceful dance, as though tumbling in an invisible stream, and the faint scent of lavender so particular to him would permeate the air. He would reach up nonchalantly and tuck away those willful strands after the zephyr had passed, but that scent would linger in my senses, long after the wind had vanished, for it suffused me as well. Every part of me bore that scent, that faint lavender of those hands that had so often caressed me.

He rarely looked at me, and when he did, it was with that veiled neutrality from which I can only glean the faintest trace of sadness, but it was enough. All I want is for him not to hate me.

It was as though time froze that afternoon, because the brooding gray light of the sky never seemed to have darkened. In the chilling cold of a hesitant spring his presence, so close to me, gave me indescribable warmth, and I can't remember another time when I had felt so happy and content.

There were many shops lining the street, and their bright neon signs absolutely mesmerized me with their multitude of colors. My eyes darted rapidly from one shop window to another, dazzled by all the toys I have never seen or even dreamed of before. More than once I felt the tug of his hand as I wandered too far away, incited by the excitement at having glimpsed some new wonder different from the one two seconds before.

Amid my ceaseless visual feast I saw an elaborately decorated azuki cake in the well-illuminated display window of some café. The cake was frosted snow white with a strawberry sitting in a round patch of broken chocolate curls on top. For a moment I was so mesmerized by the prospective sweetness of the cake that I had not realized I was rooted in front of the display window, gaping at the cake.

"Do you want it?" Suddenly his voice sounded in my ear, soft with a twinge of amusement. I turned and looked at him, completely startled. .

I lowered my eyes, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment under his unwavering gaze.

"Let's go." He said decisively.

Without waiting for my reply, he walked up the stairs to the café, with my hand firmly in his, and pushed open the door.

The café was not crowded. A few people littered here and there in the dim light and soft classical music. He picked a seat along the back left wall.

"One order of Expresso and one order of White Azuki Cake." He told the waiter, who approached us not long after we sat down.

The food came quickly, before I even had time to reflect on my gratitude for him. The azuki cake looked enticing, and as soon as the waiter had left I dug my fork into the white frosting and shoved the first bite into my mouth with childish impatience.

He sat across from me, sipping his coffee unhurriedly and with graceful elegance while he watched me eat. He did this often, when I'm playing or eating. I don't know why, but I like it, because I know he's pleased with me.

"Was it good?" He asked with a slight smile when I had swallowed the last bite.

I nodded my head vigorously.

_Thank you!_

His smile broadened almost imperceptibly and his eyes radiated a warmth I had never seen before. Slowly he reached across the table and caught my chin in his fingers.

"You have something on your face…" He said as he took a napkin and gently dabbed my mouth. "There."

I feel my face flush under his touch and turned away, hoping the dim light would obscure the burning blush that's blooming on my cheeks. I could not bear looking into his eyes now, when he was so close to me, because I could not understand the intensity that was undoubtedly reflected in them.

After a few moments I raise my eyes cautiously and peered at him, just in time to catch the fleeting shadow of a faint smile that ghosted his lips.

"If you are done, let's go." His tone was even when he spoke, without a trace of the amusement that had hung on his lips only a moment before.

The biting cold of the winter air outside caught me by surprise and I could not help but shiver in the assault of the sudden chill. Within seconds I felt a warm jacket being wrapped around me, when I looked I saw that he had taken off his overcoat. I began to protest but he held me insistently, his eyes belying nothing but the perpetual nonchalance.

"Don't move so much." He commanded softly.

I obeyed instantly and stilled my movements.

After that we walked in silence, with him a few paces behind me since I was on a constant run from this shop to the other, gaping wide eyed at the seemingly endless array of marvels. Just when I was busy flying from one shop to the next, a commotion caught my ear and my steps were drawn irresistibly toward the source of the noise. A group of kids, slightly younger than I am, crowded around the huge display window of an import toy store, all pointing and gaping excitedly at what must be the biggest teddy bear in existence; it was at least my height, if not taller. I stood behind the throng of kids, probably looking very ridiculous and out of place, gawking at the teddy bear with undiluted awe.

"Do you want that?" For the second time, the question alerted me to his presence that had otherwise gone unnoticed beside me.

I gave him a blank stare, shocked and utterly incomprehensive of his question.

"I asked if you wanted that." He repeated patiently, his eyes gazing pensively at the teddy bear.

I looked back at the bear. Judging by the size of it, I could probably have sold myself and it still wouldn't be enough to buy that bear; plus he had already bought the azuki cake for me. I return my gaze to him and shook my head resolutely with a gratuitous smile.

He peered at me, the expression in his eyes unreadable except for the subtle hint of curiosity. After a moment's pause he turned around and began walking away, with me following closely behind.

I think fell asleep on the couch right after dinner, because I was exhausted from having walked around all day, but some how when I woke up I was tucked warmly under the covers of my bed, and beside me, was a huge, life-sized teddy bear.


	7. Jealousy: Soubi

I find myself unable to take my eyes off of him sometimes—when he's watching TV, or when he's playing with his new toy. He would fiddle with its fuzzy arms, posing them in clapping motions or around his neck in the act of hugging, and I can't remember another person who had so completely dominated my attention.

"The girls have been going crazy all day." Kio commented casually, his ruddy face a stark contrast to the backdrop of a stormy sky of spring.

I let out a puff of translucent smoke, watching as the opaque strands of cloud twirled around my fingers, only to be dissipated by the passing wind.

"One of them saw you coming out of a toy shop with a teddy bear yesterday. I think a couple girls fainted after hearing the news." Kio continued when I didn't reply.

I took a drag and breathed out slowly, enjoying the burning sensation as the smoke tumbled in the back of my throat. "Oh?" I breathed at length, cocking an eyebrow, faintly amused by the trail of thought catalyzed by Kio's words. A smile broadened unconsciously on my face as I remembered the joy on his face when he discovered his new toy this morning.

This feeling of…contentment…was so strange to me.

"You seem different," Kio commented meditatively, his eyes trained sharply on my countenance. "distracted."

"Do I?" I murmured absently, tapping my cigarette lightly to get rid of the ash while gazing over the numerous rooftops at some distant street.

"Definitely." Kio insisted, this time more loudly.

I let my gaze drift back to his face slowly, waiting for him to explain himself.

"I think it's because of that boy."

I smirked. "Well, he _is_ very good."

"Pervert."

"Perhaps."

Kio laughed and shook his head. I returned my eyes once again to the skyscraper scenery.

"By the way, what's his name?" He asked after a short moment of silence.

His question surprised me. For a second I held his expectant gaze, then looked away again.

A very good question, something to ask when I get home.

He was waiting for me, as usual, when I opened the door, sitting beside the shoe rack with that oversized teddy bear hugged tightly against his chest. His eyes brightened immediately when he saw me in the doorway, and I can never quite understand the exact emotion this gesture produced in me, this abstractly pleasurable calmness.

He stood and wrapped his arms around me, with the huge furry toy, which he still held with one hand, brushing against my leg. I placed my hands lightly over his shoulder, and uttered the words that have become less alien to me by weeks worth of repetition, "I'm home."

Fat little hamsters were running across the screen of my fifty-inch plasma TV. He was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, his head resting comfortably on top of the teddy bear's head, and his eyes glued steadfastly to the screen. This was his favorite cartoon. It comes on at eight and runs for an hour everyday except on Saturdays.

I don't think I watched things like this as a child.

I waited until the credits rolled before calling out to him, "Come here."

He turned around and looked at me, flashing an innocent smile before coming toward me, that enormous bear dragging on the floor after him, and halted his steps a few inches before me. I beckoned him into my lap and wrapped an arm around him.

"What's your name?"

He stared back at me blankly, the long, dark lashes framing his pale amethyst eyes, which now looked lost.

"Do you have a name?"

Confusion clouded over his eyes as his childish features transformed into a state of intense concentration. For a moment his lips parted, as though on the verge of issuing a sound from that voiceless throat. The moment was fleeting, and soon his lips were sealed again. The violet of his irises was trained on me once more, and as he shook his head the scent of his hair assaulted my senses.

Sweet, like the dew on the petals of lavender before a summer storm.

"Ritsuka." I murmured, feeling a faint tremor pass through me as I uttered the name.

He stared back at me, incomprehensive.

"Ritsuka, the beginning of summer." I repeated more loudly this time. "That will be your name."

He mouthed the word slowly, as if getting used to the feel of it on his tongue. I took his hand and pressed it against my chest. "Soubi, my name is Soubi."

_Soubi_…He mouthed soundlessly.

I nodded and gave a small smile.

Ritsuka…my Ritsuka. I think he has yet to understand the significance of that name.

At ten o'clock I received a phone call from my father's secretary, so I sent Ritsuka off to bed, without me.

I listened calmly to the secretary, and gave, at the end of his tedious dissertation, my unchanging declination.

For one who has been praised for his artistic abilities since youth, it doubtlessly looked exceedingly strange that I had not taken a position in my father's art dealership business.

I wanted nothing to do with him.

At half past midnight, when I finally extricated myself from the phone, I glanced into Ritsuka's room, which was left open, and saw him snuggled comfortably under the covers with that toy in his arms, a contented smile stretched faintly across his countenance.

The sight of him cuddling that toy infuriated me. I stood motionless for a moment, trying to stifle that nameless and illogical anger, but the longer I stared at the more I could not contain myself.

Swiftly and silently I crossed the room and extracted that vile toy from his embrace, all the while taking care not to wake him.

I made a special trip down three flights of stairs, in the freezing night of a Tokyo spring, just to stuff a child's plaything down the dumpster.

It seemed reasonable at the time.

He was awake when I came back, searching listlessly around his room.

"If you are looking for that toy, I threw it out already." I said steadily.

He turned around and looked at me, and the sadness in his eyes shimmered. I expected him to cry, but he did nothing; he simply stood, and with a child's heartbreaking innocence saturating it, the silence between us grew unbearable.

For the first time, I looked away, and murmured, "If you want it so much, I'll buy you another one."

He was surprised by this. For a few moments he studied me, peering curiously into my eyes. Then, very decisively, he shook his head with a gentle smile.

I knew then that he had glimpsed and understood something inside of me that even I did not know and had only realized at that instant—that nameless fury corroding me, was jealousy.

He slept with me the remainder of the night, his fingers twirling absently with my hair as he drifted into sleep. And as I lied in the darkness, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against me, an exhilarating yet frightful thought occurred to me—that, perhaps he is not alone in his dependence.


	8. Shattered: Ritsuka

Soubi was saying goodbye to his friends at the door, and I hid behind the door, watching him, waiting for him to take notice of me. His friends weren't finished waving yet, but he turned around, and smiled at me.

"Come here, Ritsuka."

I ran into his arms, and buried my face in the soft wool of his sweater.

_Soubi…_I mouthed the word silently, and his lips closed possessively over mine.

* * *

"Hah, feels just like a house Soubi would pick."

Soubi went out, and there was a man standing in the living room, looking at me with an eerie smile hanging loosely on his face. I shuddered and clung to the doorframe.

"So, you are the new pet." The man said as he took a step closer. "Rather surprising, I would say."

I dug my nails further into the wood of the door; I wanted him to disappear.

"Oh, you can't talk, can you." He whispered as he walked toward me, as though in afterthought, and knelt. "Relax, you don't have to be afraid. Soubi and I are like brothers."

_Brothers…?_

"Yes, brothers…" He echoed softly and leaned close to me, so close that I could feel the heat of his breath on my ear. "we share…everything…"

I kicked and struggled against him as he pinned me on the floor, but his hands were like steel, and no matter how many times I thrashed against him, he would not let go.

He kissed me with soft, cold lips. It was like Soubi, yet it was completely different. His thrusts were rapid and ungentle, and when he gave the final shove I felt something tear.

_Soubi! Soubi! SOUBI!_

I screamed and screamed and screamed, but the only sound in the room was his hideous, panting breaths.


	9. Rage: Soubi

There was a foreign pair of shoes in the doorway when I came back.

"Hello, Soubi." The smooth voice of a most unpleasant visitor sounded just as I was wondering to whom the shoes belonged.

"What the hell are you doing here, Seimei?" I asked evenly, my voice laced with just the barest touch of threat.

"Nice to see you too, my dearest cousin." Seimei flashed me a smile.

I felt like I should punch him.

"It would be exceedingly unpleasant for you if I have to repeat my question." I snapped.

Seimei was my paternal cousin, my father's favorite and his assumed heir.

"Ritsu-sama requests that you dine at the mansion."

Which is the reason I never understood why my father was so adamant about grooming me into the next CEO of his company when he had a ready heir in line.

"Leave." I commanded tonelessly.

"Hmm…well, I delivered the message." Seimei smirked and slipped on his shoes. As he passed me by the doorway, he leaned close and whispered, "Nice toy, by the way."

I walked into the bedroom after the front door clicked shut. Ritsuka was huddled in a corner, trembling hands trying vainly to hold together torn shreds of clothes. His big, violet eyes stared fearfully up at me, and the tears in them flowed as though blood.

It was obvious that it wasn't his fault.

"Go." I hissed quietly, almost inaudible.

He bit his lips and stood up, coming towards me with a scared, pleading expression on his face. He reached out and touched my hand, and I felt disgust as I have never felt it before.

"Don't touch me with those dirty hands!" I growled harshly and jerked away. He seemed surprised, and then hurt quickly displaced the initial shock.

I could not bear to look at him—his vibrant, tearful eyes, the blotch of purple on the porcelain flesh of his neck.

"I said go! Wherever you want! Just get out of here!" I cried out suddenly.

I don't know why I was acting this way.

I don't know why this was affecting me so much.

I don't know why it was that there was pain beneath my rage

I don't know when it was that the detached peace of my life was shattered.


	10. Sorrow: Ritsuka

I have angered Soubi.

Go, he had said to me, and I dared not look at him for the intensity of the abhorrence in his eyes, but I had nowhere to go. I was nothing without him.

I wondered aimlessly down the afternoon street, my feet dragging on the sunlit pavement as though made of lead.

"Just as I thought, Soubi is really quite OCD about some of his things." A smooth, guile voice, the most hideous voice in the world, sounded behind me.

I whirled around and saw that man, Seimei, standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, smiling that sweet, dangerous smile.

"Wouldn't it be good if you could just tell Soubi about the little prank I pulled on you?" he said mockingly as he ambled toward me with measured, taunting steps. "If you could, you wouldn't be here now. It is quite unfortunate that you can't talk, really."

I turned and walked briskly away from him, but he caught my arm effortlessly.

"Oh, but you have nowhere to go, do you?" he chimed with smug satisfaction as he locked me in his arms, and whispered softly next to my ear, "I promise I will be gentle this time."

I struggled against him, just as I struggled then, both times hopelessly. I clutched and pushed at him, trying to scream out Soubi's name, but there was no sound except the rough tug of fabric and his low, mocking chuckle.

"Ah, it seems you haven't realized yet," he whispered with a cruel, expectant gaze. "but Soubi has abandoned you."

I went still as my mind went blank, and in the next instant tears flooded my eyes, and Seimei's face blurred into the surrounding trees and the worn out gray of the asphalt.

_Soubi…_

_Soubi…_

I could barely hear past the slow, agonizing beat of my heart; I could barely hear Seimei whispering triumphantly that I have no one but him now. Two thick drops of tears rolled down my cheeks, clearing away the blurred scenery, and I saw him standing behind Seimei with a dangerous, predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Don't ever touch what is mine again, Seimei." Soubi hissed, his voice low and seething with rage. I felt Seimei's hands tremble as they released me.

He took me back, but the cold, aloof expression on his face did not soften. I took a long shower when we went back to our home, and in the steam-blurred mirror I saw the dark purple bruises that contrasted so vibrantly with my skin. It was summer, but I picked a set of long sleeve pajamas so he would not see the marks left on my body by another man.

Dinner was ready when I emerged from the bathroom. It was a tray of assorted sushi, with three extra orders of tamago for me, because he knew I liked tamago. I gave him a big, grateful smile just as I always did. He seemed startled by it. The hard disinterest in his eyes wavered for just a moment, and in that instant I saw the familiar tenderness in his beautiful golden eyes, but then he seemed to remember the wrong I committed against him, and as he glanced away from me, his eyes became hard again.

Everything appeared just as they had been before. He got up each morning before me and went to class, leaving a tray of lukewarm congee and braised tofu for me to eat when I wake up. He came home each afternoon and made dinner for us both, but everything had changed between us. He never spoke to me after that day, and only rarely would he look at me, and even then, his glances were brief and seemingly filled with insuppressible distain.

He wouldn't touch me now, so I was back to sleeping in the little room he gave me. I used to think it was painful when he touched me, but now I knew that it was infinitely more painful for him not to. I tried to look happy for him during the day, hoping that in the next moment he would finally forgive me, but when night fell my resolve shattered, and I buried my face in the thick, fluffy blanket so that he would not hear the sound of me weeping.

Sometimes he sat on the couch after dinner, reading a newspaper or some book, and I contended myself to sitting on the polished wooden floor with my back against the edge of the sofa, watching him not looking at me, hoping that he would finally call for me. Other times he simply went out, leaving me behind in the silent, empty apartment, and I would fall asleep in the doorway waiting for him to return.

It was as though we had gone back to when I first came, when I didn't know his name and he didn't speak to me. But I knew his name and he had spoken to me, which makes this agony all the more exquisite, all the more unbearable.

He was so close to me, so close that if I just reached out I could touch him, yet he was so far away, so far away that I dared not reach out.


End file.
